38-Year-old Lin Wan has had seven direct leaders in five years, and each leader has made mistakes while leaving mistakes. The department she led was laid off from twelve to four people, and every layoff was not discussed with her as the supervisor in advance. Each of her subordinates had their own thoughts. She was like a sandwich biscuit, pressing on top and pushing on the bottom, holding on for five years.
Finally, after being notified at short notice that the department would reduce its staff by another employee and let her choose the people to be laid off, Lin Wan received a diagnosis of "anxiety disorder with mild depression" in the corridor of the hospital. Husband Fang Yuan said: "Just quit, it's not like I can't support you."
Lin Wan resigned.
But the days after resignation were not as easy as imagined. Without KPIs, meetings, and the people and things that consumed her, she found that she had also lost a certain "identity." She began to suffer from insomnia, started browsing recruitment software late at night, and began to sit alone in the empty living room in a daze in the morning after sending the children off.
Fang Yuan felt sorry for her, but didn't understand her. Every time he came back from a business trip, he would say: "You have a mental problem, just be more open-minded." He didn't know that what Lin Wan was most afraid of was not not having a job, but finding that she seemed to have nothing left.
This is a "empty window period" - an empty window in the workplace, an empty window in values, and an empty window in self-awareness. Lin Wan had to answer the question again during this seemingly blank time: Who am I?
Reader comments
I wrote "The Interval" because I wanted to say something to those women who are tired of running between the workplace and family. Lin Wan's story contains my shadow, and there are also too many "her" shadows. I don't write about counterattacks, only about real reconstruction—the empty window is not blank, it's about stopping and listening to yourself. May everyone who takes a break be seen with tenderness.
I wrote "The Interval" because I wanted to say something to those women who are tired of running between the workplace and family. Lin Wan's story contains my shadow, and there are also too many "her" shadows. I don't write about counterattacks, only about real reconstruction—the empty window is not blank, it's about stopping and listening to yourself. May everyone who takes a break be seen with tenderness.